Page 121 of Between Hate and Desire

It feels awkward as hell as my mother tries to make small talk about the Fourth of July celebration. Eventually, the conversation moves on, and I feel like I’m under Mrs. Anderson’s microscope as she begins hounding me with questions.

“So, Lennon. What was the rush to get married so early? I didn’t get the full story yesterday.” Her gaze pierces through me over her glass as she sips her water.

“Well…” I hesitate before continuing and repeating our rehearsed story.

Hunter naturally picks up the conversation as I grow quiet, adding all of his charm. “—and we knew then, that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.”

After he eloquently finishes, Hunter leans over and places a chaste kiss on my lips. Mom and Dad watch us, eating up the whole thing.

Mr. Anderson couldn’t care less, but his wife, she’s not giving up. “So how far along did you say you were?”

“Twelve weeks,” I tell her, and she lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Honey, you seem way farther along than that. You’re pretty big for only three months,” she says, causing my mother to butt in. My cheeks heat, and I’m sure the entire restaurant can hear my rapidly beating heart.

“You know, Theresa, everyone said the same thing to me when I was carrying Sophie. Many assumed I was carrying twins.” Mom throws her a forced grin, but I notice how tense she is. The last thing Mrs. Anderson wants to do is bring out Mama Bear because that side of her is scary.

Hunter leans back and chuckles at something my father mutters, interrupting our conversation, and I’m so damn thankful he’s the buffer. “Did you hear what your dad said?”

I shake my head.

Hunter leans over and whispers in my ear, “He said he prayed his water would turn into wine.”

Dad must be annoyed with Mrs. Anderson like the rest of us are.

Our food arrives, and though Mom keeps the small talk going while we’re eating, the attention shifts from my pregnancy to our relationship.

“It’s so cute how they met,” my mother continues. “You have to share it again.”

I don’t remember discussing this previously. Hunter glances at me and winks.

“Most people think Lennon and I met through Brandon, but that’s not true…”

Blood pumps harder through my system, and I feel like the pulse in my neck is throbbing in overdrive.

“I was at work, and Lennon ordered a drink from me. I knew how amazing Lennon was after one sentence. Sometimes, when you meet someone—and you share a special moment—it’s like you just know. When she dated my best friend, I sat on the sidelines, happy for them. But after the accident, no one understood the loss and pain I was feeling better than Lennon. We were there for each other when we both needed someone the most. She was my saving grace. She’s my everything.” He turns to me with a sincere look on his face before going back to the story. “The day we met, I had no idea Lennon would be my wife, or we’d be starting a family, but I’m so grateful. I can’t imagine a day without her now.” He gives me his infamous smile, and I practically melt. The only thing that pulls me away from staring at Hunter in awe is my father’s voice.

“It was almost as if God brought you together to heal and grieve,” my father says.

I give him a grin, but I officially feel like an asshole for lying. Though Hunter edited some of the details, it isn’t a completely fabricated story.

“It’s almost as if your guardian angels were looking out for you guys, knowing you two needed each other in desperate times. I’d like to think adding you to that prayer list after the accident helped,” Mom says.

I grab Hunter’s hand and squeeze because he has protected me and made sure I was safe. I was supposed to be on the back of that bike that night, and it hits me like a freight train that I was pregnant at that point. I sink into a black hole as I think about Brandon and that night. Hunter leans over and kisses my forehead, causing my eyes to flutter closed and bring me back to our temporary reality.

Eventually, the server comes to the table and picks up our empty plates, and Dad pays the bill. The Andersons give us all hugs and congratulations before saying goodbye, believing every word of our story. When we walk to the car, I let out a relieved sigh. Hunter pulls me to his body and whispers in my ear, “Everything went fine. Stop overanalyzing it all.”

“How do you always know what to say?”

His fingers graze across my arm. “Because I know you, Lennon.”

We climb into the back seat and make our way to my parents’ house with soft music playing in the background. I’m lost in my head, staying silent, replaying every question that was asked and every answer Hunter gave. The lines are so damn blurred I’m not sure what’s pretend and what isn’t. When we get back to California, hopefully we’ll be able to figure it out because what I feel is so damn wrong that it almost paralyzes me.

Once we’re back at the house, Hunter tells my parents good night, and before I can follow, I turn around. I move toward my mom and dad, fighting back my emotions.

“Good night. I love you both so much.” I smile, happy tears streaming down my cheeks.

Mom opens her arms, and I fall into them. “We love you too.” She pulls back to study my face. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m just so happy, that’s all,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.

---